


The Answer to Oneself

by V0ID115



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dubious Morality, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Romance, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-29 23:37:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8510017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/V0ID115/pseuds/V0ID115
Summary: If I had to compress my thoughts, I'd summarize in a few sentences.
I don't know what I am.
I need to know.
Even if it kills me... or something much greater than me.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how it came to this. I was surprised to see this coming to be as it is. Yet, I needed to go forward. And so I did.
> 
> And I opened the door.

“Welcome back!” She replied from the living room.

I waved back and I hugged her very tightly. It is very comforting having her near me.

“Hello, Melody. How was your day?” I ask.

“It was enjoyable…” she sighs, showing her exhaustion. “I had a very busy day. Not only doing housework-“ She says, poking my ribs in playful scolding “-but also having to work overtime. You know that being a singer is hard, don’t you?” She finishes, before kissing my cheek and returning to the kitchen.

“Yeah, I know. Still, it’s always worth it to be able to hear your beautiful voice in action…. You know?” I compliment her, feeling delighted to be at home. Honestly, I wouldn’t trade anything like this over anything else in the world. It is absolute bliss.

“Stop it!” She asks, now flushing with embarrassment. “You flatter me too much! Are you trying to get lucky tonight or something?” She jests, as she goes back to the oven and looks over the pasta. While I don’t like being conceited or bragging very often, I do enjoy my perfect life.

Or…. Almost perfect.

“Not really” I say, casually slipping into the kitchen. “I just may spend too much time of my own thinking about the things I love, such as you, Melody.” I say, hugging her from behind as I lean my head on hers. Her slightly shorter height and her long, golden and soft hair make her incredibly alluring. I may have always preferred dark hair, but her's were beautiful nonetheless.

“Well, someone had a good day. Did you manage to fix that bug back at the company?” She asks, interested in my daily tasks. While I find them mostly mundane, having someone to talk about them makes it feel much more special. And I love it.

“While I did not fix it, I helped everyone find a way to get around it, so my favorite feature just got implemented into the game! I’m having a working, yet innovative platformer now!” I yell excited to talk about my progress. I love game design, but few people can keep up with my passion. Having someone who doesn’t even play games enjoying it is something I will NOT take for granted.

“I’m happy for you, but don’t overwork yourself. Let us have dinner and enjoy ourselves” She said, as she finished serving the pasta without me even noticing. Guess I DO get too absentminded when I just get back from work.

And we dined, glad our day was as peaceful as others has been.

 

* * *

 

 

We decided to watch a movie before going to bed. It is an action movie. A rather dumb one. Although I don’t enjoy lame or dumb action movies, sometimes, you just want an excuse to snuggle up with your lover.

Unfortunately, this only fills my mind and my heart with apprehension.

There she lies… calm and collected into my lap. Blue eyes staring at the screen, making me even unsure if she is just gazing forward or if she is actually paying attention to the movie. She seems so… happy. I don’t know how anyone could ever want to take this joy out of her.

I don’t know if I ever could.

I wonder how CAN I do such a thing.

My humanity, my sanity, my reason. Call it whatever you want. What people call as empathy or attachment, I always found surprisingly easy to move on from whatever caused me grief. I need to see through if I do have such an emotion. I've spent enough time questioning myself about it. I don’t want to feel this crippling doubt anymore.

And, for that morbid purpose of self evaluation, self doubt or sheer insanity, I sought far and wide for the one I would love the most.

Only so I would slaughter her, probing my own emotional responses.

It's not like I was emotionally unresponsive. It's just that the results were more than... underwhelming. Having "lost" several people through my life, many were the times I was overly level-headed. Many were the times I had cold blood and calm over extreme misery of others. After so much time alone, growing seemingly "colder and rational", less "human", I began to question myself: Am I a functional and emotive person, or am I just acting as I am expected to, faking my responses for what seems more fit?

It may sound stupid, but… damned or not, I will have to do this. And there is nothing I can do to stop it.

I have ran my entire life from this confrontation. I don’t want to run anymore. I feel scared of the possible pain. But perhaps even more, the awareness of having truly become a cold, unfeeling being is what frightens me the most.

I don’t think I’m ready to know such an answer.

But yet…

When I stop looking into my mind and I get to it. I… feel scared… I don’t think I can face this reality. It is only natural, as humans flee from unwanted confrontations.

I don’t want to do it. I can’t even bear to look at her. Because I know that when I go through this decision…

She won’t ever open her eyes anymore.

Not for a few seconds, days, years….

I love her.

Or at least, what I think it is.

I don’t want to lose her.

No, I don't undestand "love", but if I had to presume, it probably is this mixture of this physical attraction and the bond we share.

She has a fondness for all life, which resonates in her, specially when she sings.

Her passion for it intrigues and lulls me closer to want to know her even more. And so we got together

And now… we were even thinking of having a baby, one day.

Make my childhood dream come true… to have a happy little family…

The thought of throwing this all away is something… I don’t think I can do after all.

It may come from a time where I did not question life or its purpose, but it's still, if just for the sake of the feeling I loath the most, nostalgia, that I keep it.

The whole situation still makes me incredibly uneasy.

 

I feel her nudging me gently, as to draw my attention. Seems like she felt my apprehension, and is looking at me intently.

“Are you ok? Do you want to go to bed?” She asks me tenderly.

She asks without any of the usual lust or playfulness she has, because she recognizes that whatever I have in my mind, I am not in the mood for anything.

Her concern is… reassuring. Yet it burdens me with guilt.

I… don’t think I can do it.

“It’s nothing…" I sigh "I’m just… under the weather…” I lied.

Feels bad to even lie at this point. I wonder… what would have happened if I had already killed her.

God, what’s going on with my mind? Never have I gotten this worked up before.

I quickly get up and usher her to our room.

“Go to bed early… I remembered some projects I had left behind” I lied again, as I turned on my computed.

I think she knows. Yet… she trusts me, as she reluctantly recoils to her room.

I don’t think I can do this.

I’m scared.

But I must go through.

Even if I don’t want to.

 

* * *

 It is now one AM. She is asleep now.

I am hesitant. I don’t want to move. She is vulnerable right now. I’m afraid of what may happen.

I don’t want to do it.

* * *

 

It is one and a half AM. She is in deep sleep.

It would be easy to kill her now. Studying some stabbing techniques helped and muffling her wouldn’t be so hard as she bleed out.

But I don’t want to.

* * *

 

It is two AM.

I don’t think I’ll get any ballsier than this.

So I go to the kitchen and pick up the knife.

It feels a bit heavy. Even heavier than usual.

I wonder if my evil thoughts are what making it feel so… heavy.

I don’t like this.

I leave it on the table and recoil a bit.

* * *

 I’m terrified. I want to back off. I don’t want to do this.

 

I don’t think I’m ready to face the consequences of my choice. Either realizing how superficial all my attachments are or finding out they are real or losing someone I currently hold dear forever.

Making her live through a life I have determined to end would only bring her more suffering! I don’t want to give this to her. Not only for my current, if ephemeral emotional reluctance, but also for my moral compass, which is seemingly unattached to my emotions, one of my most jarring features that leads to this morbid act of self-study.

While I always enjoyed studying things, I never did a study that a side effect would bring harm upon another.

Seems like, in the end, my curiosity is taking me further than I ever was.

While I’m not proud of it, it is going to be indubitably a life changing experience.

 

I close my eyes and try to sleep, trying to deny the reality of my situation. But at the same time, I also refuse to give in to exhaustion. If I don’t do this, I won’t ever do it.

 

BUT BACKSTABING HER IN HER SLEEP IS THE WORST THING I COULD DO. AS TO BETRAY HER TRUST.

BUT AT THE SAME TIME, DOING WITH HER AWAKE WOULD ONLY BRING HER MORE MISERY AND SUFFERING.

  
OH GOD, WHAT AM I DOING?

 

I PICK UP THE KNIFE AND RUSH TO HER ROOM.

 

I stop once I see her.

She is asleep.

She is smiling.

She is dreaming.

I don’t think I can do this.

Tears rush to my eyes.

OH god… No… NO…! NO!!!!

I don’t. I WON’T!

I CAN’T DO THIS.

 

I throw the knife away, making a loud “clang” as it hits the ground in the kitchen.

I throw myself into the bed and I start crying uncontrollably.

She wakes up, confused and scared.

“Lucas! What happened?”

“Please… just…! Let me stay like this with you! I beg of you! Please….” I weep uncontrollably.

“Lucas, What’s going on? Are you hurt?” She asks, clearly more worried than before.

“Melody… I love you so much…. Please don’t ever leave me…”

She looks at me for a while. After a long time, she finally wipes my tears and smiles at me.

“I don’t know what you just went through, but, if you don’t want to tell me, this time, I’ll let it slide. You seem too exhausted.” She said, as she hugged me and pat me on the hair.

I love being patted on.

“Would you like to sleep now or do you want me to stay up until you manage do to so?” She asks, lulling me to sleep.

I am reluctant to ask anymore of her. Yet, her love is something I don’t think I can refuse right now.

“… Pretty please…”

She kissed my forehead lightly and wipes some more tears, as she also cleans my nose with a tissue and throws it away.

“If it’ll make you feel better, then I’ll do it. Sweet dreams, Lucas.”

“… Thank you….” I say, trying to lull myself to sleep.

“I… love…. You….. so much……” Are my last words before shutting myself into my consciousness as she hums a melody to lull me back to sleep.

She is singing my favorite song.

She knows I love this song.

 

I love her too much.

I…. have found my answer.

I will have to explain it to her one day. She may hate me or even flat out leave me to never come back.

But I need to do it for her. She deserves to know.

I love her way too much to hide this.

I need to tell her.

But I’m not afraid anymore.

If I’m hated on, then I’ll bear it.

It was my choice.

But I’m also glad, that, in the end, leaving her alive was not a “rational” choice, but a choice of “heart”.

I guess I am human after all.

**Author's Note:**

> With all this grief, a great level of understanding now lies within me.
> 
> It's something that may haunt me later, but in the end, I now know who I am.


End file.
